My grandson screams and runs away
from a butterfly, flutterflower,
wings fine as petals.
The butterfly, gentlest creature,
flies on, perhaps abashed, perhaps,
feeling manly for having made
a child cry, to pick a fight
with a Monarch.
My grandson screams and runs away
from a butterfly, flutterflower,
wings fine as petals.
The butterfly, gentlest creature,
flies on, perhaps abashed, perhaps,
feeling manly for having made
a child cry, to pick a fight
with a Monarch.